


somebody catch my breath

by firefall



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha-Beta Bond, And Lacrosse-Related Trauma, Full Shift Werewolves, Gen, Lacrosse, Liam's Having A Rough Time, Post-Series, Scott Finally Goes Off To College
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 09:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12296142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefall/pseuds/firefall
Summary: “Is something after you?” Scott says lowly, heart beating hard in his chest.  “Are you okay?  Are you safe?”  Then, when his friend doesn’t answer right away, “Liam!”“I just—”  Liam pauses for a few agonizing seconds during which Scott’s brain conjures up pictures of Liam or Mason or Corey or his mom lying somewhere covered in their own blood.  His teeth itch, fangs practically begging to drop.  Finally Liam finishes, “I need you to come to my lacrosse game."Sometimes you need a little back-up even when you're not in danger.





	somebody catch my breath

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing like writing your first Teen Wolf fic when the series is completely over, right? Oh well. Since the finale was nebulous at best about where any of the pack members end up, I decided that Scott finally gets to UC Davis a semester late and takes Malia with him. They deserve a happy, relaxing ending.
> 
> Warnings for: a little bit of swearing and discussions of canonical character deaths.
> 
> Title is from "Goner" by twenty one pilots because why the heck not.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not profiting off of this work in any way and the characters belong to Jeff Davis even though we kinda wish they didn't.

Scott’s just stumbled into the apartment, arms full of school books and brain full of science and exhaustion, when his phone buzzes in his pocket, making him flinch and nearly drop everything.  His stomach sinks when he sees that it’s Liam, knowing that a call from Beacon Hills in the middle of the day can only promise trouble.  He’s so _tired_.

“What’s up?” he greets, phone tucked against his ear as he opens the fridge and squints inside.  It’s full of nothing but lunch meat and cans of soda – that’s what he gets for sending Malia grocery shopping, he supposes.

“I need you,” is all Liam says, voice desperate, and Scott’s blood runs cold.

Mind whirling with the terrible possibilities, Scott sinks to the floor right there in front of the open refrigerator, eyes wide and teeth clenched against the primal urge to tear something apart, claws and fangs and all.  “Is something after you?” he says lowly, heart beating hard in his chest.  “Are you okay?  Are you safe?”  Then, when his friend doesn’t answer right away, “ _Liam_!”

“I just—”  Liam pauses for a few agonizing seconds during which Scott’s brain conjures up pictures of Liam or Mason or Corey or his _mom_ lying somewhere covered in their own blood.  His teeth itch, fangs practically begging to drop.  Finally Liam finishes, “I need you to come to my lacrosse game.”

All the tension leaks from Scott’s body so quickly it leaves him lightheaded.  “Liam!” he cries again, voice high-pitched in disbelief.  Like someone cut his strings, Scott falls backwards until he’s lying in the middle of the kitchen floor staring up at the ceiling, his foot kicking out to finally close the refrigerator door.  “Don’t _do_ that to me, man!  I thought someone was dead!”

“It’s against Devenford,” Liam mumbles in answer and Scott stops abruptly, his face crumbling in sympathy and sadness.

“Oh,” he says quietly, wishing he could take back his words.  But it’s too late and Liam’s breath is shaky over the phone, ringing in Scott’s ears.  “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah.”  Liam sighs.  “It’s my very last game – like, _ever_ – and all I’m gonna be able to think about are the two empty spots, you know?  One on the team and one in the stands.”  Even without enhanced hearing, Scott couldn’t have missed the way Liam swallows hard, like his throat is tightening up.  “And I _know_ I can manage it, but I think I could manage it a whole lot better if you were there.”

Even from miles away, Scott feels the bond between alpha and beta so strongly it makes his entire body hurt.  “Of _course_ I’ll be there,” Scott says gently, nodding decisively to himself.  “Just give me the date and I’ll be front row, okay?”

Liam laughs, but it’s nervous.  “Yeah, it’s—um.  It’s tonight.”

Scott springs to his feet, throwing his free hand in the air in a gesture that’s so reminiscent of his mom he almost has to laugh.  He develops a new appreciation for her gray hairs and exhausted sighs with every passing day.  “ _Tonight_?” he repeats, clapping a weary hand over his eyes.  “What am I supposed to do, Liam?  Full shift and _run_ all the way to Beacon Hills?”

“If you could, that’d be great,” Liam pleads and he sounds so _young_.  A whole lot more like the trembling fourteen-year-old Scott hauled out of the well than the scrappy senior that faced off against a virtual firing squad with nothing but claws in his repertoire.  “I know it’s short notice but I was trying really hard not to bother you.  But we see how well that worked out, I guess.”

That’s all it takes and Scott’s mind is made up.  “You’re never a bother,” he says firmly and fiercely, digging around in one of the kitchen drawers for a pen and a scrap of paper.  “I’ve just gotta write a note to Malia and then I’m leaving.  I might be a little late, but I’m coming.  I promise.”

“Thanks,” Liam breathes gratefully and then they hang up.

True to his word, Scott only waits long enough to scribble a few words to his girlfriend – _Going to BH to see Liam.  I’ll be back tonight.  Nothing’s wrong_ – before he’s racing for the closest forest preserve and shedding his clothes to full shift.  As much as he’d scoffed at the idea before, it really is the only way he’ll make it before the game’s over.  One of the benefits of being an actual wolf is that you don’t have to stick to roads or obey traffic laws…you can go wherever you want as long as you don’t get caught.

And Scott is way too good to get caught.

By the time he makes it back to Beacon Hills, the sun is setting and Scott is wiped out, energy and endurance completely spent.  He pulls on the change of clothes he has stashed in the back yard and then stumbles into his quiet house, holding his hands up when his poor mother leaps off the couch in terror, paperback book raised over her head like she’s ready to club him with it.

“It’s just me!” he cries, quickly stepping out of the shadows.  “Just me, Mom!”

“Oh my _gosh_ ,” she breathes, lungs audibly hitching, as she clutches at her heart.  “What the hell, Scott!  What’s wrong with you?”

Time is ticking, so Scott bypasses an explanation, opting instead to beg, “I need you to drive me to Liam’s lacrosse game!  _Please_.”

The annoyance in his mother’s eyes is quickly replaced by an understanding that has her rushing for her car keys and pealing out of the driveway way too fast.  She speeds the entire way and by the time they get to the school, they’ve only missed the first couple minutes.  Relieved, Scott leads her over to where Mason and Dr. Geyer are watching the game with sharp focus, settling into the front row just like he promised.

“How’s he doing?” Scott asks, directing the question at Liam’s dad and best friend as his eyes scan the field for Liam.

“Not great,” Dr. Geyer admits, lips pulled into a sad smile.  “He’s very distracted.”

“Yeah, even Corey’s doing better than him,” Mason says and Scott winces because as much as he loves Corey, that’s _bad_.  That’s _really_ bad.

They weren’t exaggerating, because during the rest of the first half Liam manages to miss the ball twice, shoot past the goal four times, and get tackled by some freshman that’s even shorter than he is.  On the sidelines, Coach Finstock is going ballistic, shouting things that only vaguely make sense but are clearly meant to be insults.  Corey and Nolan take every opportunity to smack Liam encouragingly on the shoulder, trying to snap him out of it, but by the time the whistle blows for halftime, Liam’s head is hung in shame and Scott’s stomach hurts.  This is a disaster.

He can’t let Liam go out like this.

Determined, Scott waits until Finstock is done berating Liam before he whispers, voice gentle but allowing for no argument, “Liam, get over here.”  Even from yards away, Scott can see Liam’s ears prick up where he's sitting on the bench, his back going rigid.  Then, after throwing a glance at the coach to make sure he’s otherwise occupied, Liam slowly turns around and does as he’s told, feet dragging.

“Thanks for coming,” Liam mutters once he’s standing before Scott, shoulders hunched.  “But you probably shouldn’t have.  I’m just wasting everyone’s time.”

Scott refuses to dignify that with a response.  Instead he asks, “What’s going on, huh?  You’re so much better than this and we both know it.  _Everyone_ knows it.”

Liam’s hands curl in his lacrosse gloves, two angry fists at his sides.  If it was two years earlier Scott wouldn’t have been shocked to see his claws rip through the heavy cloth.  But Liam’s older now and he stays very carefully in control, every muscle in his body clenched.  “You know what’s going on!” he hisses wildly, trying his best to keep his voice down.  “It’s all _wrong_ , is what’s going on!  He’s supposed to be out there, Scott…and she’s supposed to be _here_.”  He gestures vaguely in the direction of the open seat next to Mason.  “But they’re _not_ so what’s the point?  Why are we pretending like things can just be normal?”

Heart heavy, Scott grabs ahold of Liam’s mask and yanks him downwards until he’s kneeling on the grass in front of the stands, face to face with Scott.  “You’re right…they’re not here,” Scott says so quietly only a wolf could hear him.  “Because if they _were_ here, Brett would be calling you a dumbass and giving you shit for how bad you’re sucking.  And you know I’m right.”

Liam stays quiet, his eyes trained on the ground.  His heartbeat is wild.

“So do you wanna be a dumbass or do you wanna play a game even Brett couldn’t make fun of you for?” Scott asks, hooking a finger into Liam’s mask and tapping his chin to make him look up.  He does, his eyes almost painfully wide.  “Because it’s okay to feel awful – no one could ever fault you for that – but it’s not okay to represent yourself like this.  You can do it, okay?  I believe in you.”

“I can’t,” Liam disagrees and he sounds so petulant Scott can’t help but smile and shake his head.

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I—”

“Yes, you _can_ ,” Scott repeats, his voice going loud and hard and resolute like it rarely does.  Then, after taking a furtive glance around, he leans in close and lets his eyes flash red for a few long seconds.  “Now get out there and show them why you’re the team captain.”

The reaction is instantaneous.  Liam’s eyes go from blue to gold and his hands fly up to grab Scott’s wrists, not like he’s afraid or nervous – because Scott knows what _that_ looks like – but more like he’s steeling himself, trying to pull confidence straight out of Scott’s bloodstream.  Then he finally takes a deep breath and gets to his feet, body buzzing with renewed energy. 

“Okay,” he says, somewhat sheepish but mostly stubborn.  “Okay.”

Then the whistle sounds to announce the end of halftime and Scott watches with a grin on his lips as his friend runs back onto the field, feet digging determinedly into the ground and hands tight around his crosse.  The second the clock starts, Liam has the ball and sends it sailing all the way down the field to Nolan who then makes Beacon Hills’ first goal of the night.  The stands erupt into cheers, everyone around Scott leaping to their feet in excitement.  Dr. Geyer even wraps Scott’s mom in a celebratory hug, relieved to see that his son is back in the game.

Scott, however, stays still and quiet, listening for Liam’s heartbeat.  He finds it even through the roar of the crowd and it’s strong and steady, just like it should be.  It makes Scott’s chest loosen and the wolf lie down, melting away from where it’s been nipping at the surface of his skin since Liam’s phone call.

“Thank you,” Mason whispers from next to him, knocking his elbow into Scott’s.  “He’s never lost someone before.  Not like this, anyway.” 

Scott’s lost many someones – so many he doesn’t even want to count – and for a split second he can feel every single one of them pressing down on his shoulders.  It aches, but he bites his lip and he bears it because he can.  He _can_.

“No problem.”  Scott watches as Liam scores a goal and gets swarmed by his happy teammates.  When he adds, “He won’t lose anyone else,” he means it adamantly and completely.  It’s a big promise, but that’s okay.

He can bear that, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
